My Darling Curse
by Beatrice Benedick
Summary: Angst and fascination in this multichapter Gio/Daniel slash fic. Read only if you are comfortable with the subject. But you can flame if you like :P I love reviews. M for implicit material.
1. Lust

**For Foxy. Inspired by her entertainingly funny "The Prince and The Pirate", this is the angsty counterpart of the story. A personal challenge.**

**Warning: This is gay, this is angsty, this is fluffy, melodramatic and insufferably out of character. But, I'm torturing myself trying to make this story mildly believable. But, at the very least, I promise this is going to be a complete story. If you are comfortable with male to male romance I invite you to follow this and see if you like it. You can't say I didn't warn you.**

**M is just for implicit material. So no, no explicit sex scene.**

**M is just for warning the prudes and hardcore fans. Ironically, slash stories are rare in Ugly Betty fanfiction.**

**Enough excuses. These are my first lines:**

* * *

**Chapter I**

**LUST**

_If I could kiss you now  
Oh__… I'd kiss you now again and again_

"**Where you end" by Moby**

A smile formed instantly in his mouth, just as the memories started flooding into his head: the musky smell of long black hair… his own whisper against an ear… the tight leather pants… the chocolate eyes staring at him intently… it had felt as if everything has just been nothing but a game, the same sex game he had been known to play all his life.

He bit his lower lip. At first, he had admitted to himself, the whole thing had seemed kind of comical, almost surreal… like a weird dream: the ridiculous customs, the sudden passion, the laughs, the improvisation, the wiry touch of skin against his own… a crazy joke he could store in his mind and never speak about it. But it hasn't been a dream. It had happened, it had been real and his body had shameless marks that spoke for themselves.

His lips formed a line. His first time, the confusion, the alcohol in his veins, the bodies free to do as they pleased, the roughness and the passion: it had been an adventure like those that are carelessly written with ink of experience in the pages of every man's life, a folly of youth that is easily forgotten. But this had gotten out of control, costing him a relationship he had valued and treasured throughout the years, with a person far too important for him.

He frowned.

He found himself wishing it never happened. And yet he wished…

He opened his eyes and looked down. It really had turned into a problem. And Daniel Meade hated problems.

"I don't think this is going to work" he said, gently patting her in the head.

"I'll make it work" a voice responded from below.

"No really. I don't think so…"

Her clear green eyes shot at him, defiantly, "I can."

Daniel pulled back and sat on the corner of the bed.

"Not this time. I'm sorry."

The woman stood up and her angelic eyes had turned on fire.

"You... you... asshole! I could have gone with Becks..."

A tall white blonde from the office. A model. Shallow. Pretty. His specialty. Daniel closed his eyes again trying to shut himself down, the last thing he wanted was just another argument. Live life, live freely was his new law. She rambled her way through the room, collecting her scattered clothes from the floor.

She threw a pair of boxers briefs at him.

"Who would have thought Daniel Meade was nothing but a pus—"

"Latvy!" he pleaded, feeling a bit of embarrassment, "this… happens sometimes."

"There's a thing called Viagra. Can't afford one?" She said sarcastically, dressed up and stormed out.

He was left alone, dressed with nothing but his thoughts.

The room felt empty.

Betty had been gone for two days now and Daniel felt, with some guilt, a small relief in his heart. It had been a headache to convince her not to leave the company. He always feared this could happen. One of the many reasons why he never tried to approach her in a romantic way before: a break up would always lead into such consequences and he needed her at work.

"Whoever said that people should be honest and always tell the truth didn't know a thing about life", he said to himself.

He gave a huge sigh and threw himself back against the bed. It had been an awful week.

Something has been happening. Nothing tasted the same anymore. And he'd been insatiably hungry for such a long time, ever since Molly died.

Why had he done it? He thought he wasn't going to remember anything about that night. He was sure he'd been drunk and alcohol always has managed to erase such things from his memory. But, just like a curse, he remembered every single thing, every single movement, every single moan, every touch… very clearly. It was frightening.

Again, the smell of those dreadlocks came to him, the same perfume he had used to love for himself not so long ago.

He looked up to the ceiling mirror and saw his own reflex: a perfectly built body mirrored his own. He loved his body, always had. He was proud of it. He'd been working it and tuning it up to perfection since… he couldn't remember. At least, he was sure, ever since those early days when he discovered the real laws of attraction and that he could lure and incite with what God had provided him as a man built to conquer and possess. Daniel smiled. It just made the whole thing even more ironic —who knew he was destined to fall bewitched from the same evil curse?

He had never touched another body in that way, only his own, and definitely never done any of those things he dared that night. His tongue clacked "_Tsk, tsk! _This is twisted, Daniel. Even for your standard."

He raised his right hand and the image of the mirror did the same. He glared at his own fingers, clean, manicured, and soft, like a woman. Once a person he used to call friend told him that. Maybe it was true.

He remembered other hands, those rough olive hands, hard to the touch, small skilled hands. He remembered how those exploring hands found the right spot, the perfect rhythm, exploring places he never knew, maximizing every bit of pleasure that his neurons could absorb. Only a man would know a body like his own.

Nobody but a man would know how to please it.

They've never met after that night. Actually it seems as if they were avoiding each other —what would they have said?

He let his hand return to his chest and he closed his eyes. Had he been any good, too? The memories of silent noises and heavy panting made him feel somewhat reassured.

He became bolder and let his fingers adventure to their will, down south, guided by the imperious need to revive the pleasure of that curious night. He tried to exorcize the images that haunted him with his own hands, trying to replicate the cursed memories that younger hands had etched into his skin, the scent of his warmth breath that smelled of too much alcohol, the feeling of his own back against the cold walls of the public bathroom, the thrilling pleasure of the forbidden, the pressure of his lips against his own…

A few seconds passed and calm returned back to his body. He opened his eyes, awaken from the trance of a moment that seemed too short. The feeling was pleasant but equally ineffective. The memories were still there lingering in his mind.

Still resting his back on the bed, he felt dirty just for a brief moment, ashamed for staining such delicious memory and his silky bedspread with his own guilty hands.

He felt the urge to cry but the tears stayed in his mind, while his eyes entertained in the world around him as if it was the first time he'd been in that room… born again.

Like every Meade, he had money; and money was power. He was older and wiser; he had fully lived and experienced life. The tormenting memories faded for a while and he felt brave.

Suddenly, the world looked new and fascinating; everything seemed right and possible…

He stood up and started dressing up.

He must talk to Gio.

—0—

**Next Chapter: PAIN...**

Moby — Where you end lyrics

Some things fall apart  
Some things make you whole  
Some things that you find  
Are beyond your control

I love you and you're beautiful  
You write your own songs  
What if the right part of leaving  
Turned out to be wrong

If I could kiss you now  
Oh I'd kiss you now again and again  
'Til I don't know where I begin  
And where you end

Thought I fell in love the other day  
With an old friend of mine  
I was running kisses  
Down every inch of her spine

We had the roof down  
The sun came shining in  
The black fact is  
That I was thinking of you

If I could kiss you now

I slept in the sun the other day  
I thought I was fine  
Everything seemed perfect  
'Til I had you on my mind

I tried to love you  
I did all that I could  
I wish that the bad now  
Had finally turned into good

If I could kiss you now

Oh where you end  
Is where I begin

-0-


	2. Pain

**Chapter II and III are dedicated to Bia (UBAmandaFan) who is always cheerful and attentive and also says she loves angst... just like me. Hey, Bia, I hope this is angsty enough for you. **

**

* * *

  
**

**Chapter I****I**

**PAIN**

_And never knowing  
what could've been  
Not seeing that loving you  
__Is what I was trying to do_

"**What hurts the most" by Marc Wills**

The sole of his John Lobb loafers weren't used to the rough sidewalks of downtown Manhattan and it pained him to dispense of the limousine but he wanted sometime to think and organize his thoughts. So he walked the many large blocks that separated him from his destination. Or maybe he just didn't want to lose momentum —whatever that word meant.

The sun wasn't even out yet and he already saw the sea of people walking down the streets: in suits, in sportswear, always in a hurry. He blended just easily. They didn't notice him at all.

He gave a quick stare at his Rolex watch: six o'clock. He had no idea Latvy and Becks had kept him for such a long time that night. He had lost track of time and he couldn't believe it was already morning. Loud music and expensive champagne was all he could remember —as if he even cared to remember.

His heart wavered for a second. What if Gio wasn't even there? It might be too early. He couldn't think clearly. He must've had his brain clogged with alcohol, a stupor that stung his brains and pierced his temples like a crown of thorns, driving him into madness. He shook his head. No, it wasn't the alcohol. He was intoxicated with something else.

Just as he crossed the block where his office, the huge Meade Empire was based, he gave a quick glance to the imposing building dimly lit with the streetlights. 'Money was power. Power can get you anything': his father had many times told him countless times; his brother had lived by it and so did himself. Power had gotten where he'd been now, power had bought him the most extraordinary woman he had ever met in his life.

He finally found himself in front of the door of the small shop in Manhattan. The closed sign was hanged in the door but it yielded against his weight as he gently pushed it open.

Everything was neatly decorated: the walls, the ceiling, the glass windows. They spoke Italian words of a self-discovery trip under the sky of Rome and of spicy innuendos of pickles and salamis from a carefree soul, all of this painted in bright playful tones that blended in one happy mix in front of his eyes. The deli owner never let anyone decorate his place, not even his own family. Daniel knew it. Betty had told him. They both had found it amusingly stubborn then. But Daniel had to admit he had great taste. The place was colorful but nice and he liked it. Even the grinning pickle under the words 'Gio's Deli' laughing at him as he blushed at the memories of that wild night he'd shared with him. Yeah, Daniel thought, he couldn't have picked a better logo.

As he walked towards the counter, Daniel allowed his lungs grasp for air and he felt confident just by being there. Everything inside the little Deli in Manhattan invited to enter it, whispering gently into all his senses, tempting him in, daring him to stay: the warmth of the place, the permanent perfume of fresh sausages and, specially, the figure of the handsome owner focused in his work at the back of the deli.

—0—

Daniel walked with slow steps towards the counter. He had practiced every word in his head. He was calmed, they were both alone and there was no rush.

There wasn't a welcoming greeting, either.

Gio Rossi was chopping, more like murdering an onion into unnecessary little pieces. It was his cue but Daniel didn't spoke a word. His mind went blank, hypnotized by the vision of those hands: the silver bracelet, his wrist, the color of the skin. Gio had rough fingers… very skilled fingers. He had enough proof of that. The way he tightly gripped the wooden handle of that knife…

Gio eyed him from the corner of his eyes. Foul words and million curses filled his brain in an instant. He was the last person he wanted to see that day. He didn't want to have that talk. Not in public. Not then. Not ever.

"What do you want?" he said, his raspy voice pierced the air.

Daniel got taken aback by those words. That's not how he had pictured it to happen at all.

"I…" Daniel couldn't even start. Gio had left the onions and started hitting a large piece of meat with a pounder. The loud sound of Gio's hammer against the board seemed to make a statement of its own.

"I wanted to talk to you… about that night" Daniel placed his hands on the counter that divided the space between them. Gio didn't respond only the hammering sound echoed against his ears.

"That night…" Daniel continued. "I don't really know what happened there. But I just can't stop thinking about it. This is all new to me. I can only guess it's… new to you, too"

No response. Daniel closed his eyes and breathed hard.

"I don't know what to do."

"Have you ever?" Gio muttered under his breath in a conceited voice and kept smashing the meat with all his strength. Daniel could see the muscles tense under the short sleeved black cotton t-shirt that wrapped his olive toned arms.

"I know" Daniel chuckled and added, sheepishly. "You were always smarter than me. That's why I'm here. Maybe… you could help me figure out what we could do about all this, what we could do … about us."

"Us?" The pounder stopped its angry chant and Daniel found himself in front of two eyes of steel looking at him in rage. The gravely voice continued and every single word drained any ounce of the courage that Daniel had gathered on his way there. "You are sick. You make me sick."

It would have been easier if Gio had taken the pounder and crushed his chest with it. Daniel could barely move paralyzed by the physical pain his words had inflicted on his body. Water threatened to fill his blue eyes and he felt something break inside of him. This wasn't supposed to happen like that.

Gio's expression hardened as he noticed how the taller and older man shrank in front of his eyes. He saw a man of power, a man of wealth, break down into pieces. He both pitied and abhorred the presence of whatever shadow of a man was standing in front of him.

"Whatever happened that night was wrong. Grow a pair and live with it." Gio said, trying unsuccessfully to soften his voice. He cleaned his hands with the white apron that hung from his neck and wrapped tightly around his waist. Then, he looked away. He had nothing else to say.

There was a moment of silence and Daniel took the opportunity to speak trying to remember whatever words he had practiced to tell him. "Don't you think… maybe… this whole thing could be more than fascination?"

"Fascination?!" said Gio, turning around, almost shouting, "What the… fuck! You… you disgust me!"

Daniel raised his voice a few bars, his heart speeding madly inside his chest. The words were fighting against the lump that was forming in his throat, but he spoke them anyway "Has it ever occurred to you that you could be feeling the same way… That we discovered that night what we really…"

"I am A MAN!" Gio shouted back and, as he did so, a strand of hair fell carelessly over his right eye.

A heavy silence fell in the four walls around them. The brown and the blue eyes stared at each other, defiantly. The blue eyes yielded first.

Daniel tugged his own spiky hair with his fingers, nervously, feeling on the verge of despair. He couldn't find what to say. He'd never been good with words. That he knew. His lips parted to speak. "I'm scared, too. Don't you think this… freaks me out?"

Gio was sweating in anger, his nostrils burning; his eyes, on fire. Droplets of sweat formed in his forehead. He finally spoke with a controlled but uneven voice, chopped by the strength of his anger.

"I don't want to see your fucking face in this place ever again. I hope I'm understood".

Daniel's face fell, defeated. With no strength left to fight, he turned to leave. He stood by the door.

"You are not even going to ask about Betty and how is she coping with all… this?"

Gio's expressions softened, suddenly taken by surprise.

Daniel noticed the change of his countenance and the border of his lips produced a sad smile. "I bet you haven't thought about her, not even once, after that night."

"Get out!" Gio shouted back at him.

Daniel closed the door behind him.

"Get out!" Gio said once more and smashed the counter top with his fist. With a loud cry of rage and uncontrolled frenzy, he swept the counter, in one quick savage movement of his arms, throwing the knife, the meat pounder and everything he had at reach against the floor.

Gio caught a stream of blood running through his reddened palm. His hand had started shaking and he couldn't control it. He found himself realizing that he'd never feared the truth more than in that exact moment —Daniel had been fucking right.

A sharp knife would have caused him less damage than what he had just experienced, Daniel, thought as he walked back the blocks to his apartment in Manhattan. He didn't know what he'd expected to find when he entered that Deli and exposed himself in that way. All he did know was that he hadn't got it when he left. He came with nothing but a huge flame of despair burning his insides and, at that moment, it felt as if there was nothing that could take that pain away.

Daniel Meade walked again through the streets of Manhattan, clad in his designer clothes, his expensive shoes, his Rolex shining on his wrist; bathed in all that money and power. A power that could buy anyone —except him.

—0—

**Next Chapter: SADNESS...**

—

**Note: ****There´s an old Gio/Henry slash fanvid made by AngelicGothNeko with the Rascal Flatts version of this song in youtube (check it out!). **

**But it was MadiWillow with his Getty fic "What Hurts the Most" that introduced me to the original Mark Wills version which I consider much more powerful, manlier and angstier. **

**Thanks to both of you for this! :)**

Mark Wills — What Hurts The Most

I can take the rain on the roof of this empty house  
That don't bother me  
I can take a few tears that I've got  
And just let them out  
But I'm not afraid to cry  
Every once in a while  
Even though going on with you still upsets me  
Ever days  
Every now and again I pretend I'm ok  
But that's not what gets me

What hurts the most  
Was being so close  
And having so much to say  
And watching you walk away  
And never knowing what could have been  
And not seeing that loving you  
Is what I was trying to do

It's hard to deal with the pain of losing you  
Everywhere I go  
but I'm doing it  
It's hard to force that smile

when I see our old friends and I'm alone  
Still haunted  
Getting up getting dressed living with this regret  
But I know if I could do it over  
I would treat every way all the words that I said in my heart

and I left unspoken

'cause…

What hurts the most  
Was being so close  
And having so much to say  
And watching you walk away  
And never knowing what could have been  
And not seeing that loving you  
Is what I was trying to do

Is what I was trying to do

-0-


	3. Sadness

**Chapter I****II**

**SADNESS**

_And I want you...not  
I need you...not  
I'm dying  
_**"The Saddest song I've got" by Annie Lennox**

"Crap!" Gio threw back the money into the cashier and started counting it again for the third time that night. It was a bit late than the usual closing time of the deli and his body was aching for rest. He wanted so badly to finally return back home and sleep that day away. But what seemed to be one of the longest days of the life of the Italian boy from Queens was far from being over yet.

The scene he had lived in the morning refused to die in his memories and it had done nothing but to add an extra weight to his already loaded shoulders.

Betty Suarez.

Out of all people, he'd never wanted to hurt Betty. How dare he even mention her name? Gio thought, bitterly. Daniel had never cared for her —the bastard! He knew the story, classic Cinderella style. He guessed it shouldn't had been such surprise, at least to most people, after all. It was the typical girl dream: to find her own prince. But the fairytale fantasy Betty'd constructed for herself had lasted less than a fortnight. It wasn't too long before it was clear to everyone that 'happily ever after' just didn't exist for the media mogul and his young editor-assistant.

Betty had denied her own feelings, Gio had stopped fighting for her and saw her turn into a life she wasn't ready to belong to, into a man that quickly took her for granted and abandoned himself back to endless parties trying to fill the void with ephemeral glimpses of fake happiness. Gio knew. She'd told him herself. How she'd been depressed for days, how she'd been turned sick and he'd neglect her, how she'd felt so lonely. Yes, Gio knew an awfully lot about Daniel. More than he wanted to know. Betty used to come and share everything to him, like she'd always done since that first day when Gio met her and loved her.

How the hell she'd been so blind to choose that man over him? He asked himself. That self-centered codependent poor excuse of man who thought he could own everything and everyone just because God had blessed him with fortune and… beauty.

The image of teary clear blue eyes flashed in his mind and his heart sank inside his chest —had he been too harsh on him?

He shook the image away with one quick movement of his head.

Betty Suarez. He wanted to summon her image back to him. He wanted her to expel the rest of the thoughts that troubled him. But the truth was that he was ashamed of himself. He really hadn't thought of her at all after that night. Not even once until Daniel mentioned her. He laughed pitifully. Who would have thought a curse could only be cured with another curse?

The bell rang and killed the silence that had been his companion for most part of that night.

"It's closed" he said instinctively but the alluring smell of a peculiar perfume made him face the newcomer.

He knew the scent of the only woman that had been inside his mind and his dreams for countless nights, for months of scorching agony and pain. He recognized her shape even under the dim lights of the entrance. The colorful clothes, the untidy long hair that fell all over her face, the braces and the glasses. He would recognize her anywhere. It was definitely his Betty.

Before he even had time to react, he felt the skin of his left cheek burn in fire.

"How dare you!"

Gio looked at the woman in front of him. It wasn't the first time she'd slapped him. It wasn't the first time she had branded him on the face.

"You slept with Daniel" A disfigured face looked straight at him. "You!"

He looked at her into her trembling brown eyes. Those eyes he had loved unconditionally for so long, the eyes that had once fooled him with promises of a future together, the same eyes that had turned against him and rejected him one too many times before. The only woman he'd wanted and never possessed… that he'd never touched.

"Why?" she asked him, her face daringly close to him, pushing him against the wall.

How could he answer? He didn't know how to respond that question. All he knew was what he'd done and when and with who. How could he explain why he'd ended up getting intimate with the fiance of the only woman he'd loved above everything? He'd no excuse; it was dirty and sinful no matter how anyone would look at it. No matter whatever words he could ever say to her.

"Why?!" she yelled, almost begging him in a loud cry.

"You didn't even love him" was all his grave voice responded those defiantly eyes that kept staring at him, searching for something he didn't have anymore.

"Why!" she cried again and her voice echoed against every wall of the room. She slapped his face, his neck, his chest, his arms… She hit him with all the strength she had in her. Gio didn't stop her.

The world suddenly faded and turned gray, her shouting and cries sounded distant as if there was a screen in between them. He stood still and let Betty take revenge on his body for all the pain he'd caused her: the long dark hair shaking violently as she slapped him, her anger and frustration flooding endlessly from her eyes, her voice howling uncontrollably. He let her punish him and hit him without a single word of protest —maybe to somehow purge his sins.

When she stopped her beating, Gio held her in his arms and kissed her.

She sank into his lips with urgency, grabbing his face with both her hands, looking desperately for something to hold on to, tears still streaming across her face.

Gio's lips broke apart gently and, still holding her, repeated:

"You didn't even love him."

Betty was now shaking inconsolably in his arms. She tried to find refuge in his chest and managed to speak between sobs:

"How dare you…" he heard her say, her voice breaking again, "knowing how much I love you".

Gio held her tighter and finally let the tears he'd been holding all that time fall freely from his eyes.

How much he'd hurt her! He, who'd never wanted to cause her pain…

He wasn't only crying for her but for the realization that miserably stroke him the very moment his lips touched hers: he hadn't felt anything when they kissed —it was the saddest day of his life.

Nothing was left between them but to cry together in silence.

—0—

**Next Chapter: SACRIFICE...**

—

**Annie Lennox - The saddest song I've got**

Darling are you feeling  
The same thing that I'm seeing?  
The troubles of the day  
Took my breath away  
Took my breath away

Now you're no longer talking  
And I'm no longer hearing;  
There's nothing left to say  
Said it anyway  
Said it anyway  
And I want you...not  
I need you...not  
I'm dying  
'Cause this is the saddest song I've got  
The saddest song I've got

Darling are you healing  
From all those scars appearing?  
Don't it hurt a lot?  
Don't know how to stop  
Don't know how it stops

Now there's no sense in seeing  
The colors of the morning,  
Can't hold the clouds at bay  
Chase them all away  
Chase them all away

And I'm frozen still  
Unspoken still  
Heartbroken  
Remembering something I forgot...  
Something I forgot.

—0—


	4. Sacrifice

**Chapter I****V**

**SACRIFICE**

_You gotta stand up straight, carry your own weight  
'Cause tears are going nowhere, baby__  
_

"**Stuck in a Moment" by U2**

He secured the silver ring in his finger while he took a few seconds to choose the bracelet, being awfully cautious to match it with the silver necklace he wore over his chest.

Forget and keep on living.

Shaving properly, he checked himself in the mirror and slapped his cheeks with the aftershave: just the perfect scent. He added some mouse and applied it carefully, styling every single strand with his fingers. He had always been very particular about his hair and it was quite convenient he'd just had a haircut the day before: not too long, not too short, just the perfect length.

He looked at his chest then to his abdomen. He patted his body and lamented he didn't have perfect abs like Daniel Meade. Just like every morning, he had just returned from the local gym, did the usual one-hour routine and still he couldn't manage to make his body look like a Greek God… to make it look like Daniel's hard rock muscles. His fingers danced in his skin at the reaction of the memories, memories of how great it felt touching them.

He shook his head.

"Stop his nonsense" he commanded himself and put on his shirt. But his mind didn't obey. At every step he took, across every mirror on the walls, in every corner on his way to the breakfast table, he kept replaying visuals of that strange night in his head: the whispers and the words, how he towered over him and still he didn't feel threatened by him. How he dared do things he never thought he could before, things he never thought he could do—

A coloring book almost hit his nose.

"What?!" Gio protested looking at the little person demanding his attention. "What do you want?"

"Do you remember what color is the Prince's belt?"

"Antonella, let him finish his breakfast. That's girl's stuff", said Mrs. Rossi while combing Antonella's hair, "and stay still!"

Gio took a quick look at the drawing his young sister was painting. It was Eric from The Little Mermaid.

"It's red" he said.

"Are you sure?"

Of course he was sure. He had each detail of that costume engraved in his memory since that last Halloween. He'd remembered the soft touch of the fabric while his own fingers worked their way through the red cloth belt; he'd remembered them running freely through the white open collar of the loose shirt; he'd remembered how clumsy they dealt with those ridiculously fancy buttons. How silly Daniel looked inside that costume! Gio had always thought Daniel to be silly, he admitted there was something fascinating in his vulnerability of his. But that night, wearing that costume, he'd seen a daring, stronger and slightly drunk Daniel that totally took him by surprise the moment they first kissed.

He allowed himself a smile. I'd been very funny.

And it'd been equally hard trying to erase it from his mind, trying to forget. At least he was glad those images were locked inside his mind. As long as he kept them his own nobody would ever know or ask about that night. His memories were for himself and himself only.

"There'd never been a gay man in the Rossi family and there'll never be!"

Suddenly, it was as if the eyes of the world fell madly upon him.

"How can you tell, Pa?" a female voice sounded from the corner of the room. "There are tons of closeted gays out there. It's not as if we really 'know'."

"Not in our family. It's not in our genes" said Mr. Rossi, proudly.

"Hey!" his wife intervened. "What is it you're talking about so loud and so early in the morning?"

"Nothing, Mom" said Gio's older sister, Diana, while doing her nails. "Dad just found out that Tulio, the son of the Super ran away with his body trainer."

"My god!" Mrs. Rossi jumped. "Can't find something better to talk about in this house?"

"We can't help it, mom, that's the talk of the town these days. I just don't get what's the whole deal about it, though. It was so freaking obvious! Not like nobody knew it, anyway. His mama's making a big fuss out of nothing."

"An aberration of nature!" said Mr. Rossi, still reading the newspaper. "That's what it is."

"They've been seen each other for years! Or so they say. It's a shame they had to leave town, though" she said, taking a good look at her finished work. "There ain't nothing wrong with being gay. If you like someone it's just fair to go for it, don't you think? If anything, he didn't deserve to be thrown out of the house like a dog. Man! Who's gonna to cut my hair now?!"

Antonella made a face.

"You're sick!" she yelled at her sister.

"This conversation is not for you, young lady" the mother covered Antonella's ears and tried to bring Antonella out of the kitchen. "And, Diana, it's not Christian to speak like that of such things. It's disgusting!"

All that time Gio stood still in silence. He wasn't hungry anymore. The cereal was tasteless in his mouth.

"Mom! What century are you living?" Diana complained and laughed. "And what's with you, Nella? Tina, your best friend, has two mothers, right?"

"Ridiculous! 'These people' shouldn't be allowed to have kids at all. What will become of this society?"

"These people!? These people?! I can't believe you just said that, dad. Jeez! I can't believe my family! Gio, help!" she caught Gio while he was opening the front door. "Come on, bro, tell us, what you think about Tulio?"

He froze on his failed attempt to get out of the suffocating place. He frowned and answered back.

"Diana, I think nobody here in this house is qualified to discuss that topic."

"Unless you were gay, of course" Diana said with a bright smile.

Gio jumped while he grabbed the handle, unable to decide whether to close the door or leave it opened. She continued: "Wouldn't it be great that you were? Just for the sake of having someone to talk about this. Everyone here is so damned 'normal'."

"Leave him alone!" Antonella ran towards him and wrapped her arms around him. "My—my bro would never be gay."

"Antonella!" Her mother yelled. "Don't say that word! God will punish you!"

"I'm just saying" she said, blushing, "he's been with half the girls of the whole block."

Everyone in the room laughed at Antonella's remark. Gio pulled down her carefully combed ponytail.

"I don't think you're helping me, Nella."

"But look at you, bro. You don't even eat anymore. I think you're still pinning over that Mode Girl" she made particular emphasis on the word 'girl', "You know, Braces."

"Ah, Braces…" Gio thought, "Betty. How that ship had sailed! Forever."

Gio gave her a small smile. He knew it wasn't her fault. Antonella had no clue of how the wind had long changed inside his heart. Nobody but him had the slightest idea of the storm enclosed within him.

It was better that way.

"Well one thing I know for sure. Not my Gio" his father went to him and patted him on the shoulders. "My son, he dreams of a good big family just like his old man."

The sister shrugged, "of course he does."

A good big family. Yes, his father was right. He'd always dreamed of a family of his own. He wanted kids. He wanted that life. He didn't want to give that up.

A cold breeze dared inside the room though the crack of the opened door. The fall predicted a long cold winter and he was alone. He'd been alone since he returned from Rome. Another Christmas and he found himself without anyone to keep him warm. He didn't think he was ready to have another Christmas pass by without a partner.

His older sister finally said: "So, Gio, are you going to Marino's tonight?"

Gio nodded, kissed Antonella's forehead and got ready to exit the place.

"Bring a girl" Diana said, sarcastically, while her brother finally closed the door behind him, "prove the world how macho you are."

—0—

But Gio didn't bring anyone to the party.

He saw his sister dance like a drunken Jennifer Lopez on the dance floor. He surveyed her from the corner of his eyes; maybe the skirt was too short. Unlike him, she never had any sense of fashion or moderation. Always extravagant, always attracted to anything abnormal, she'd annoyed him greatly with her childish banter that morning. And yet he loved his sister very dearly. Actually, Gio loved everyone in his family and he was well aware of his responsibilities over them. His parents were both factory workers. He was their only son, the overachiever, the role model, the one everyone else looked upon. He was proud of that trust they lay on him and he was eager to succeed in life to provide for them.

He had his 5-year plan laid in front of him. But he hated how there was always something that slowed him down: first Betty and now, Daniel. He once hated Betty for hurting him and now he hated— he hated how much he'd hurt Daniel.

He took another sip of whisky. He didn't need that now. Not another drama in his life.

He looked at his severed hand. It still had a little scar from that day Daniel stood in front of him at his Deli. He'd yelled at him. He'd despised him. No, it wasn't Daniel who he'd despised. He'd seen himself through him. He'd seen himself writhe in front of his very eyes. He'd seen his own weakness. And Gio Rossi couldn't afford to be weak. Not in the world he lived.

"What we could do about us, he says" Gio spoke to himself "What an asshole!"

Gio had known Daniel for a while. He had grown to respect him and he was certain Daniel was nothing without the help of the others, that he'd always relied on others to survive: his family's money, his handful of friends. He cling to Betty like a disease. He'd been with her just for his own sake. He'd been Gio's friend for his own sake, too. Gio'd helped him in one way or the other. But he wasn't Betty.

He was sweating. It was cold outside but inside that small room filled with loud music, chatter and colorful lights. Just the usual at Marino's: plenty of whisky and beer, the laughs, the mix of Italian and Spanish in the conversations, the smoke and the frivolity of another regular Friday night.

Gio wondered if he'd really changed? He gave a long stare at his cousin, Maurizo. If anything, he got all what was handsome from the Rossi families.

"Nope, I don't like him" Gio had not finished saying that to himself when he laughed at his own thoughts. "I can't believe I'm thinking this in this place surrounded by all these gorgeous chicks. I'm so pathetic."

He then turned to look at Julianna, a gorgeous woman, an exgirlfriend. He'd been once crazy about her. Now she looked so distant, like part of another life he couldn't manage to return to.

What the hell was wrong with him? What were those thoughts? What was that feeling burning him? Could that be another way of loving? He shook his head as if he could dismiss the thought with the gesture. No, that couldn't be accepted. It had to be an aberration of nature, like his father said. Two men's bodies weren't meant to be used the way they were used that night.

He found it hard to drink the last sip from his glass so he placed it back on the table.

How would he be able to go to church every Sunday? And his mind drifted in thoughts of God, sin and faith and suddenly, the world felt unfair.

What was that he was feeling? What about that desire he experienced? It had to mean something. That had to be real, somewhere —in a twisted world, maybe.

"_No les dará asco?"_

"What?" Gio said returning back to the reality of the neon lights and the loud music of the improvised disco down a basement.

"Gay people, wouldn't they feel disgusted" a taller version of Gio spoke by his side, "doing what they do."

Gio frowned and his heart jumped in his chest. Had he been thinking aloud?

"Yo, cuz, drunk already?" Maurizo joked and ordered another bottle of whisky.

Julianna slapped him gently on the arms. "You're not yourself tonight, Gio. It's like you aren't here with us."

Gio muttered a few words. He said something about work. Excuses.

Maurizo spoke again.

"We were just talking about Rocco, old Rocco from the Gym, remember him? Last week we found out he ran away… with another man! I mean, hard to swallow, Rocco… gay!"

They laughed at his bad joke. But Gio, he didn't even crack a smile.

Gay. He'd heard that word too many times that day. A word filled with taboo and prejudices. Honestly, a labeling word he'd never liked before.

"That's twisted, man! The hairdresser! It's a bit disturbing, really. He was one of us, man!"

More laughs and jokes, unfair jokes from all colors and tastes, coming from the lips of his very own family, his closest friends —too many voices around him, too many voices inside his head.

He tried to get himself together; he tried to blend back into reality, to be his old self. He tried cracking some jokes, too. He cracked them with no shame. They all expected him to.

But it wasn't the same.

To keep appearances, he left the disco with Julianna —Trying hard to forget and keep on living.

Nobody had an idea of the pressure he felt upon him. Not Daniel, or his parents or Betty, not even Diana and her silly talk.

He was a man. He must love women, alcohol and dancing. He was expected to marry under the eyes of God with a good woman from the barrio, to bear many children with her and perpetuate the name of Rossi through the upcoming generations. He was a latino catholic man born and breed in Queens.

He couldn't afford to be anything else.

—0—

**Next Chapter: LONGING...**

U2 — Stuck in a moment

I'm not afraid  
Of anything in this world  
There's nothing you can throw at me  
That I haven't already heard  
I'm just trying to find  
A decent melody  
A song that I can sing  
In my own company

I never thought you were a fool  
But darling, look at you.  
You gotta stand up straight, carry your own weight  
'Cause tears are going nowhere, baby

You've got to get yourself together  
You've got stuck in a moment  
And now you can't get out of it  
Don't say that later will be better  
Now you're stuck in a moment  
And you can't get out of it

I will not forsake  
The colors that you bring  
The nights you filled with fireworks  
They left you with nothing  
I am still enchanted  
By the light you brought to me  
I listen through your ears  
Through your eyes I can see

You are such a fool  
To worry like you do..  
I know it's tough  
And you can never get enough  
Of what you don't really need now  
My, oh my!

You've got to get yourself together  
You've got stuck in a moment  
And you can't get out of it  
Oh, love, look at you now  
You've got yourself stuck in a moment  
And you can't get out of it  
Oh, lord! look at you now  
You've got yourself stuck in a moment  
And you cant get out of it

I was unconscious, half asleep  
The water is warm 'til you discover how deep  
I wasn't jumping, for me it was a fall  
It's a long way down to nothing at all

You've got to get yourself together  
You've got stuck in a moment  
And you can't get out of it  
Don't say that later will be better  
Now you're stuck in a moment  
And you can't get out of it

And if the night runs over…  
And if the day won't last…  
And if your way should falter…  
Along this stony pass…

It's just a moment  
This time will pass

—0—


End file.
